


The Kind Of Eyes That Drive Wolves Mad

by plasticpumpkins



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: A disgusting amount of happiness n affection, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Halloween Costumes, Lingerie, Little Red Riding Hood - Freeform, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 06:45:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16470743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plasticpumpkins/pseuds/plasticpumpkins
Summary: It's Connor and Hank's very first Halloween together! Hank had expected silly antics, but definitely not the red lipstick or the lingerie.orHank is the wolf & Connor is Little Red Riding Hood. Hank finds it really hot.





	The Kind Of Eyes That Drive Wolves Mad

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, guys!! 
> 
>  
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @ learntokiss or on twitter @ humandr0id!

October 31st, 2039. Hank Anderson’s first Halloween sober in a handful of years. There were purple and orange fairy lights lining his front porch, illuminating the perfectly carved jack-o-lanterns flickering with electric candles. Standing against the railing of the stairs was a plastic skeleton with its arms crossed, and at its feet was an accompanying skeleton dog. It only seemed appropriate, considering everyone under his roof was a lover of both dogs and weird humor. That thought brought a particularly warm feeling to Hank’s heart, reminding him it wasn’t only him and Sumo now.

Down the hallway, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, was Connor. His _boyfriend._ Fuck, Hank could barely believe that was true. He was sure that at some point, he’d wake up hungover with his face pressed into the living room carpet and realize it was all a dream. But no matter how many times he pinched his wrist, nothing changed. Sumo kept chewing on a squeaky toy fashioned after a ghost. The radio still hummed music. Connor stayed real and alive. It was perfect. Hank sunk down into the couch, feeling grateful and wholly content. Life couldn’t get any better for Hank at this point.

They would be handing out Halloween candy until eight o'clock, and then they were heading to some fancy party Markus was throwing. A year ago, Hank would’ve loathed both of those things. But now, it was entertaining. He was sure that it was all because of Connor. His boyfriend made everything more tolerable, and that wasn’t only because he was fuckin’ bangable, it was his personality. His smile. The way his eyes lit up in curiosity and intrigue. Hank loved watching him; he loved seeing him speak and interact and enjoy himself. The world was brand new to his boyfriend, and it showed. It was amazing.

Hank wished he could go back and tell his past self how happy he would be. He was sure all previous versions of him would scoff and roll their eyes. They would probably even pretend to gag at how fuckin’ sappy he was, but he couldn’t help it. The change he had experienced in the last year was so vast, and considering he had spent months contemplating his own suicide, being in love and happy was a positive change. Grief and depression had led him down a dangerous path; one filled with alcoholism and self-harm. And Hank didn’t care if he shot rainbows out of his ass, he was better now, dammit.

A lot of it had to do with Connor. Sure, he had helped himself in a lot of ways, too. But if Connor hadn’t been there to cheer him on, especially on days when he couldn’t even get out of bed, he wasn’t sure he’d have made it this far. It had been fuckin’ hard, even impossible at times, but eventually it became easier to breathe again. He had been to therapy concerning his alcoholism, and it had been one of the toughest things to give up, considering it had been his crutch for so many years. But Connor had been there, soothing that persistent urge, even when it wasn’t pretty. Even when Hank was frustrated.

So, yeah, Hank was happy. And he deserved to be. He was sober, mentally stable, and everything was wonderful. He didn’t care if he sounded like a Hallmark-original movie. Sumo was suddenly nudging his knees with a wet nose, and Hank smiled, reaching down to scratch his head. “You enjoyin’ your costume, bud?” he asked, fully amused that his 200-pound Saint Bernard was dressed as a pumpkin.

But Sumo wasn’t the only one with a costume that year. It was Connor’s first Halloween, and it only seemed right for him to experience the slightly goofy art of dressing up. Hank definitely wasn’t going to be the one to deny him that, but he hadn’t realized he was going to be roped into it as well. He would have protested, but Connor had looked so fuckin’ adorable when he discovered the world of couple’s costumes, and Hank had eventually lost to his puppy dog eyes. Speaking of puppies, Hank kind of was one. Well, something like that. Connor hadn’t really explained the extent of their costume to him.

All Hank knew was that it involved him wearing a pair of gray, disheveled animal ears and ripped clothes. He had a sleeveless, blue shirt on that exposed his muscled arms. Along with a tattered pair of black, denim jeans. No shoes. When Hank had first looked into the mirror after Connor dressed him, his face had turned beet red and he had a hard time meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. “Did ya dress me as a stray dog, Con?” he had asked, his thick eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Connor had laughed and shook his head, insisting that Hank would understand when it all came together. He wasn’t so sure.

As awkward as Hank had initially felt, he was at a point where he really didn’t give two shits. The only person he really wanted to impress was Connor, and well, Connor had dressed him to begin with. As long as the android remained happy, Hank probably would’ve worn Sumo’s pumpkin. Being in love sure was a trip. Down the hallway, the bathroom door suddenly squeaked open and the excitement of seeing what Connor was wearing bubbled in Hank’s chest. Understandably, he was a little worried. Connor wasn’t really designed for these things, and he had no idea what his boyfriend would do.

“Hank! Close your eyes!” Connor’s excited voice instructed from the hallway.

An easy smile crept onto Hank’s face as he closed his eyes, “Alright, kid, they’re closed…”

He had assumed Connor would approach, but he what he didn’t expect was the distinct clack of high heeled shoes against the hardwood floors. He fought the urge to open his eyes, his curiosity swirled in his stomach and he chewed on his inner lip to keep from giving in. “Okay, I’m ready for you to look!” Connor said, and Hank nearly thought he was imagining the quivering tone of the android’s voice.

Hank’s eyes snapped open, unable to quell his interest, and the sight that was suddenly bestowed upon him nearly threatened to give him an early heart attack. The first thing Hank noticed was the long, satin cloak that clasped around Connor’s thin neck; it was ruby, falling around his narrow shoulders beautifully. Below it was a white and red dress with an impeccably tied corset hugging Connor’s abdomen, giving him a more feminine figure even as the dress fanned out with the white, feather-looking petticoat underneath it. The skirt was shorter in the front, not oddly so, but alluring.

Hank could see the shy peeking of black lingerie underneath, namely the garter belt leading to the stockings wrapped generously around Connor’s dewey, pale thighs. It all led down to knee-high boots.

Hank felt himself coloring, and he reached up to tug on his shirt collar. “So, uh, what are you again?”

Connor smiled, and only then did Hank notice the shiny coat of red lipstick on his plush lips. Connor was so stunning that it threatened to overwhelm the older lieutenant; he never imagined someone as beautiful as Connor would fall in love with him, but somehow it was all real. Connor was young and lean and grinning. Hank loved him dearly. “I’m little red riding hood! And you’re the big, bad wolf!”

“Oh, I see, you get to be beauty and I get to be the beast… How kind of you…” Hank murmured playfully, trying his very best to carry on a conversation when Connor looked like _that._ His dark hair wasn’t tamed as it was usually was, no, it was freshly washed and falling into soft, dark curls around his face and ears. He looked so delicate, even when Hank noticed the toy version of a heavy, wood-cutting axe in Connor’s gloved fist. The black gloves were fingerless and accentuated his thin wrists, trailing down to deceptively fragile digits. Hank knew that Connor was fully capable of kicking his ass, but…  

This entire costume played on the opposite team of that. Hank had read the stories about Little Red Riding Hood, even the older versions which never ended well. And in them all, Red was always polite, always oblivious to the motives of the wolf that stalked her. Standing in front of him, Connor was the face of innocence; all doe eyes and glistening lips. Maybe it should’ve been gross, the implication that Connor was prey, a meal wrapped in corset strings, but it wasn’t. It was probably one of the hottest fucking things Hank had experienced in his long life, and he nearly squirmed with it. He was fucked.

“I’d happily wear your wolf ears instead, Hank. Would you like me to help you into this dress?” Connor questioned smoothly, though his lips quirked up and his eyes narrowed slightly.

Hank rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Alright, smartass, keep it up.”

Connor crossed the small space between them and sat down snugly beside Hank, who was having a hard time ignoring the warm press of Connor into his side. “Do you like my costume, Hank?”

“Yeah, Con, I like your costume…” Hank mumbled, and he knew he was doomed when one of Connor’s gloved hands came up to rest on his cheek. He turned willingly to look at him, and fuck, being so close was not helping the bulge pressing against the seams of his fly. Hank could see the miniscule freckles on his cheeks and the comforting swirl of his blue LED. “Maybe a little too much,” Hank’s voice was barely a whisper as his eyes darted around the android’s pretty, soft face. The tension between them, like always, built quickly and left both of them daring the other to move. Fuck.

“In the traditional folklore, there is no one to save Red Riding Hood. She is devoured by the wolf,” Connor said suddenly, his thumb carefully stroking Hank’s stubbled-cheek as his eyes flickered up.  Desire burned in the pit of his stomach, and he exhaled shakily. Connor was impossibly attractive.

Their mouths gravitated closer, but Hank remained calm, “Is that why you’re dressed up like her?”

Being as close as they were, Hank could feel Connor’s simulated breath fluttering against his lips. The prettiest blue imaginable bloomed across his boyfriend’s cheekbones, “I merely enjoy folktales, Hank.”

Connor was delectable. Good enough to eat. “Don’t lie to me, baby boy…”

The android shivered - strange for his kind but so, so hot. Suddenly, with a bout of strength, Connor was pressing Hank back into the couch cushions and slinging a long leg over his lap to straddle his thighs. There was finally pressure against Hank’s weeping cock, and his large, calloused hands found the hem of his android’s dress, tangling the fabric in his fingers and pushing it further and further up Connor’s legs. Inch by inch, Hank uncovered miles upon miles of supple, milky skin. He was thrilled.

A sudden question popped into Hank’s mind, and he shoved the fabric up higher… “Hold your dress up for me, baby,” Hank murmured, and instantly, Connor obeyed and lifted the fabric up, his cheeks burning blue as his body was exposed. A pair of black panties hugged Connor’s groin, and slivers of white skin were shown through the intricate lace. The entire set of lingerie consisted of black underwear, and the slim, upper-part of the garter belt clipped securely below Connor’s bellybutton. There were soft, long straps that overlapped the lace panties and connected to the clasps on his thighs.

Hank was fucked _._ Sure, he had his fantasies and kinks, but sometimes, Connor introduced him to things he hadn’t even thought about. And yeah, granted, his ex-wife had worn a great deal of frilly underwear and complicated bras during their marriage. It was all flattering on her, and it was usually a fuckin’ relief to know she still cared to try, but the outfits hadn’t added much. But in that moment, legs splayed wide on his springy couch with his damn hot boyfriend on his lap, he couldn’t get it enough of it. Hank’s eyes were hooded, his tongue peeking out to wet his dry lips, and he was _fucked._

It wasn’t the lingerie; it was Connor. Everything about the android got Hank riled up, it didn’t matter if he was mouthing off Hank at work or quite literally _mouthing_ Hank off. “Did these come with the costume?” Hank asked, voice low and suspicious, as he looked at his boyfriend with narrowed eyes. He looped a finger through one of the straps on Connor’s thighs, and he pulled back slightly before letting the elastic snap back into place, causing his boyfriend to hiss through his teeth at the contact. “Huh?”

“No, I… I bought the lingerie separately,” Connor admitted sheepishly, turning his head and averting his embarrassed eyes away from Hank’s heavy gaze; there was that delectable blush again, staining his skin baby blue. Hank grinned. There was something satisfying about rendering a highly professional and intelligent detective into a soft mess on his lap. Hank guided Connor’s face forward again, wanting to bask in Connor’s aroused embarrassment. He leaned forward, their lips nearly touching, and then…

The doorbell rang. Connor startled and pulled away, his relaxed posture straightening. Hank groaned and tilted his head to rest against the back of the couch in irritation. “I swear, I can’t even fuckin’ breathe for two minutes without somebody crawlin’ up my ass,” Hank grumbled, and Connor leaned down to place a chaste kiss to his lips in parting. As quickly as they had found their position, they were out of it and Connor was standing up, smoothing his dress down. The blue lingering in Connor’s face was the only giveaway to their recent predicament as he strode around the couch to the front door.

By the sounds of it, there were kids on the porch. “Trick or Treat!” they exclaimed happily, and Hank shifted sideways to look over the couch and observe. Connor’s mouth had split into a grin, and the warmth of affection bloomed like wildflowers in Hank’s gut. There was a bowl of candy sitting by the front door, and the android rushed to collect it, holding it out to the kids. This was why celebrating holidays was suddenly important to Hank again; the almost childlike joy on Connor’s face, and being able to experience that rare sense of magic, even if secondhand. The android waved as the children left.

Connor turned back to Hank with a fond smile on his face, “Is it like this every year?”

Affection pooled into Hank’s stomach, “From now on, it will be.”


End file.
